


Two Figures by a Fountain

by the_deep_magic



Category: Actor RPF, Star Trek RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, First Time, Hand Jobs, Historical, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-10
Updated: 2009-11-10
Packaged: 2017-10-19 05:29:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/197433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_deep_magic/pseuds/the_deep_magic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Atonement AU. Zach is the son of a maid for the Pine family in 1935 England. He and Chris grew up together, and have recently reunited at the family estate over the summer holidays. Hopefully this will make sense even if you’re not familiar with the original.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two Figures by a Fountain

Zach laid in the bath until the water turned cold, staring up at the cracked beams of the ceiling. He kept replaying the surreal events of the afternoon in his mind – the broken vase, the argument by the fountain. Christopher Pine stripping down to his underwear.

Robert Pine was his benefactor, his mother’s employer and the man who was paying his way through medical school. Zach had grown up with his son Chris – they were practically brothers, though it had been several years since they’d seen each other. And so much had changed in those years. Chris had gone off to Cambridge a scrawny boy, barely able to defend himself against the local bullies, and come back a strong and fiercely intelligent man.

Though they both attended the same university, their disparity in means kept Zach in vastly different social circles than Chris. He’d grown several inches – he was nearly Zach’s own height now – his shoulders broader and his once-skinny frame now thick with muscle. Zach knew he was in trouble the moment he saw Chris standing beside the fountain. So stunned was he by Chris’ demeanor, by the confidence in Chris’ posture and the eloquence of his speech, that Zach had argued thoughtlessly with him, in the process breaking the antique vase that Chris had come to fill with water.

 _“Let me help you with that.”_

 _“Thanks, I’ve got it.”_

 _“No, look, you hold the flowers and I’ll…”_

 _A sound like the cracking of a dry twig, and two pieces of antique ceramic break the still surface of the water._

 _“Damn it, Zach, that vase was my great-grandmother’s. It’s probably the most valuable thing we own.”_

 _“Not anymore, it isn’t.”_

In some strange act of defiance, Chris had stripped right then and there to his undergarments and gone into the fountain after the broken fragments while Zach stared helplessly. When Chris emerged, his briefs were soaked, and Zach got a momentary glimpse of his cock through the translucent fabric. Zach had turned and left without another word.

The whole episode had been unforgivably rude of him – Zach, the maid’s son, gawking pathetically at the man who was supposed to be his friend. He had to make amends somehow, but when he considered the thought of apologizing face-to-face, Zach doubted he’d be able to find the right words. He dried himself off from the bath, pulling on trousers and sitting in front of his old, battered typewriter.

 _Dear Chris, I must apologize for my behavior today. I have been feeling light-headed all day – it must have been the heat! I don’t usually go around breaking vases or_

Zach sighed and yanked his first effort from the typewriter. The whole thing sounded glib, the exclamation mark only making it seem all the more facetious. He threaded in a clean piece of paper and began again.

 _Christopher, I beg your forgiveness for my reprehensible actions. I could blame the heat, but that would be a specious excuse for_

No, that was already sounding obsequious. Zach hit the carriage return several times, wiping a hand over his already sweaty forehead before setting his fingers back down on the keys.

 _I imagine sucking your hard, thick cock. In my dreams, I fuck you slow and deep until you cry out my name._

Zach gaped at what he had just written – it wasn’t until he could see it on paper that he realized every word of it was the truth. The heavy tension between them, the way Zach’s thoughts kept returning to Chris’ bare, wet body. He wanted Chris, wanted him badly, and the whole thing was absurd. He and Chris may have grown up together, running back and forth between the palatial main house and his own room in the servant’s quarters, but that hardly made them equals. Not to mention he had no notion as to where Chris’ preferences lay. For all he knew, Chris was bedding every woman in Cambridge – with looks like his, it would hardly be difficult.

Setting the ruined letter aside, Zach pulled out a clean sheet of paper and began to write by hand, deciding it would be more personal anyway. He wrote a few carefully bland sentiments and signed the letter, setting it by the typewriter while he dressed for the evening. Chris’ older brother Karl had invited him to dine with the family that evening, and he had to make himself presentable – he owed Robert and Gwynne that much.

When he was ready, Zach folded the letter and put the envelope in his jacket pocket. He kissed his mother on the cheek as he left, walking up the path to the main house. When he saw Chris’ younger brother sitting forlornly on the steps, he called out to him.

“Anton, why the long face?”

“The cousins aren’t cooperating,” sighed Anton, looking far too put-upon for his 13 years. “I wrote a new play to perform after dinner this evening, and the twins would rather muck around in the dirt than rehearse.”

Zach smiled sympathetically – the cousins were legitimately awful children. “I’m sorry. Maybe we could do a staged reading of the play instead? I’d be happy to voice one of the characters. I’m sure Chris would, too.” Anton seemed to cheer up at this, and Zach got an idea. “Anton, when you go ask Chris, would you give this to him for me?”

He handed over the letter, and Anton nodded. Zach patted his pockets and said, “Oh dear, I’ve forgotten my glasses. I’ll need them if I’m to read your inspired words.” He gave Anton a conspiratorial wink and turned on his heels to head back to his room.

Zach did need to retrieve his glasses, but he had an ulterior motive in delaying his arrival at the main house. If Anton delivered the letter first, Chris would have a few minutes to collect his own thoughts, and Zach thought that might make things easier for both of them. He slipped back into his room, picking up the glasses that he’d left beside the typewriter.

Atop the handwritten letter he’d meant to give to Chris.

&&&

Zach was torn between racing back to the main house and stalling until just before dinnertime. By now, Anton had to have given Chris the letter with the obscene note at the bottom. Zach hadn’t sealed the envelope – perhaps Anton had even _read_ the letter, and god only knew what he would think of Zach for it. It was unconscionable to have even written the letter, let alone to have sent it. There was no way to explain it to Chris without either sounding utterly foolish or revealing more of himself than was decent. He even considered forgoing dinner altogether, but it would be an unpardonable offense turn down the invitation. He eventually forced himself to go back to the main house. If he gave no explanation, Chris might assume it had been his intention to send the letter as it was, and Zach could hardly have him thinking that.

When he arrived, Chris was sitting in the parlor with Karl and Karl’s friend John. John was deep in conversation about his new business venture, and none of them were paying any attention to Zach. He tried unsuccessfully to catch Chris’ eye without alerting the others to his presence, but after a few minutes he gave up and retreated to the library.

It was the one place in the main house that felt like home to him, its floor-to-ceiling mahogany shelves crammed with books of every size and shape. Even when he’d been too young to read them, he and Chris would hide in here, sometimes building a fort out of the reading desk, but more often playing on the sliding ladders or looking for dirty pictures in the medical books. Zach leaned against the shelves and shut his eyes against the tide of images that flooded his mind when he thought about Chris; he reminded himself that he barely knew the man anymore, not after the formative years they’d spent apart. A small part of his brain rejoiced in that thought – after all, this was no longer Chris, his almost-brother, but Chris, the handsome, intelligent young man, deeply familiar to Zach but new and strange all the same.

Zach was so deep in thought that he didn’t hear the soft footsteps entering the library; it was the muted squeak of the closing door that made him turn around. Chris stood still in the warm, dim light, a completely indecipherable expression on his face.

“It was a mistake,” Zach blurted, taking a stride toward Chris before stopping himself abruptly. “The letter. It wasn’t the one I intended to give you.”

“No, I suppose not,” said Chris calmly. “Anton read it.”

“Oh no, I’m so sorry. No one was meant to read it. I don’t even know why I wrote it. I meant to tear it up, but somehow it got into the envelope, and by the time I’d realized it…” Zach’s mind went blank then, and he had to bite down on his lip to keep from rambling.

Chris looked down at the floor, and Zach stood rooted to the spot, bracing himself for Chris’ reaction. When Chris looked up, though, he didn’t look angry or bewildered or offended or any of a dozen things Zach had tried to prepare for. Instead, he looked… pensive.

“It must have been there before,” he said slowly, cryptically. “Seeing you today, watching you look at me. But I didn’t realize it until I’d read what you’d written.”

Suddenly Chris was moving, stalking Zach like a predator and Zach didn’t know whether to flinch away or bare his throat. Then Chris had Zach’s face in his hands and was kissing him, skillfully and without a trace of hesitation. Zach froze – this aggression was so unlike what he knew of Chris… and so entirely welcome.

He finally gathered the presence of mind to return the kiss, and soon Chris was gripping the lapels of his jacket, dragging them backward. Chris’ back hit the shelf with enough force to shake a fine layer of dust into the air, but it didn’t stop him from tangling his tongue lewdly with Zach’s. Before he could stop himself, Zach pressed his hips into Chris’, moaning as he felt the other man’s arousal rubbing against his own. Chris made the most delicious sound deep in his chest, thrusting back reflexively, and Zach couldn’t hold back any longer. He scrabbled at Chris’ belt, sighing with relief as Chris’ hands came down to work on his own.

Chris moaned so perfectly as Zach took him in hand that Zach had to shut his eyes to keep from coming at the sight of Chris’ lips shaping the sound of his name. Zach could tell from the slightly tentative way Chris wrapped his hand around Zach’s erection that he’d never touched a man this way before, though he was quickly gathering enthusiasm. But Zach’s practiced touch seemed to distract him from his task and Zach quickly lost patience, crushing their hips together and stroking both of their cocks roughly in one long-fingered hand.

The strangled gasp this drew from Chris was enough to push Zach over the edge; he’d been aroused all day, and the pull of Chris’ fingers clenching at his shoulders, the heat of their bodies together was too good to resist. He let Chris feel every shudder, every gasp, and when he was done, he used his own release to ease the slide of his hand on other man’s cock.

It was better this way – now Zach could concentrate on the way Chris’ luminous eyes widened just _so_ when Zach twisted his wrist, the way his breathing stuttered whenever Zach ran his thumb under the ridge at the head. Chris held out longer than Zach had expected, but far too soon, Chris was thrusting wantonly up into Zach’s fist, dropping his head back against the shelves as he breathed Zach’s name again into the dusty air.

Zach gave him no time to recover, leaning in to claim his lips before Chris could regain his breath. He slid his mouth to the line of Chris’ jaw and was just about to press his lips to the scar on his cheek when Chris suddenly went rigid in his arms.

“ _Zach_ ,” he murmured warningly, his eyes focused beyond the other man’s shoulder.

He turned to see the terrified face of Anton, staring at the two of them as though he'd just witnessed a violent crime. As the boy turned and fled the library, slamming the door behind him, Chris sagged back against the shelves, wiping the sweat from his brow. It was over.


End file.
